All the films from all the editions, including those subsequently removed, presently totalling 1167. An easy way of seeing how…
A boy and girl face the challenge of the world's last frontier
A teenage girl and her young brother are stranded in the Australian outback and are forced to cope on their own. They meet an Aborigine on "walkabout": a ritualistic banishment from his tribe
Nicolas Roeg is fast becoming one of my favorite directors. Granted, I've only digested three of his films so far, and I understand that his quality declines quite drastically later in his career (otherwise, I would have expected him to be one of the all-time greats instead of just respected yet rarely talked about), but he has yet to take a misstep in my book. Not only are the films of his I've watched commendable, they are truly excellent. From his mastery of the thriller/horror in Don't Look Now to the daring experimental sci-fi of The Man Who Fell To Earth, I've now been lucky enough to catch the beautiful, perhaps even 'Malickian' nature odyssey of Walkabout.
Walkabout, above all,…
I often talk about how I cherish the rare and unique opportunity to experience a film through pure, unbiased eyes, having never seen a trailer or a clip, with no knowledge of even a basic premise to get me started before sitting down and pressing play. Such was my approach to the 1971 Australian movie Walkabout, as I literally only knew the name of the director and the fact that it was deemed worthy of inclusion to the Criterion collection.
I wanted Nicolas Roeg to tell me a story, to paint something extraordinary with his highly regarded brush that, despite his expansive filmography, I had never witnessed in action before.
The film starts with various shots of crowded,…
The near silent opening of the film contrasts the concrete hell of the city set against the wise open spaces of the Australian outback. It is not until we are in the car with the girl, her younger brother and father that we have a clear understanding of where exactly we are. The montage of scenes before that converge together in surreal motion, the power of the images alone enough to inform you of the films psychology.
Nicolas Roeg's film was seemingly lost, then resurrected in full and appears to slowly be finding an audience at last. Its themes are simple yet wonderfully effective. Roeg looks at the industrialisation of the world and the ongoing battle against nature, always waiting…
This review reportedly contains spoilers. I can handle the truth.
"I don't suppose it matters which way we go..."
Nicholas Roeg's 1971 film Walkabout is so dizzying in it's sheer beauty, that one tends to get just as lost in it's Australian landscape and vistas as our protagonists, and it's through Nic Roeg's innovative editing and cinematography that we witness a teenage schoolgirl and her little brother become one with the landscape, as if nature is devouring the foreign objects that enter into its realm (symbolised by their picnic food being consumed by ants).
Edward Bond's 14 page screenplay, which is loosely based on the novel 'Walkabout' by James Vance Marshall, is apparently quite a step away from the novel in it's cinematic form. Roeg infuses the film with layers…
Director: Nicolas Roeg (Fourth Film)
A well-shot film about two siblings; an older sister and a younger brother as they venture - forced to so by circumstance - through the Australian outback. I say venture, but it's more trudge and struggle as they quickly descend into desperation. That is until they meet a young aboriginal boy on his "Walkabout" - a rite of passage undertaken by Aborigines during their adolescence years.
The film is wonderfully shot, with director Nicolas Roeg utilising frequently startling images and juxtaposition. Imagery-wise, Roeg is working wonders in this film with focus on transitions and fluidity and well, generally the odd shot of nature - in both its forms, nasty and nice.
It's been a day and a half since watching Walkabout. Normally I come and write my thoughts down right away, but this one has given me fits with how to express them.
A brother and sister, stranded and left in the outback, try and survive after running into an aborigine during his 'walkabout' - where on his 16th birthday he must go and live in the wildnerness surviving off the natural means of the earth. It's a very simple tale yet shown to us so poetically that it begs you to reflect on your own life.
Director Nicholas Roeg shows us what surviving in the wilderness of the Australian outback can feel like, and in such a natural beautiful way.…
A beautiful movie. Full of fantastic cinematography.
The shots really do make this movie.
Aside from the beautiful framing, the movie is very somber and slow. It is very poorly paced and meanders a bit too much.
The cross-cutting is very ominous and fascinatingly peculiar.
It certainly is a movie with a signature style, but it lets this down with such a slow pace.
I do find this much better than Roeg's The Man Who Fell To Earth.
Engrossing, challenging, provocative, edgy, gritty. Really enjoyable film making. Luc Roeg's delivery of the Edward Bond script is brilliant.
wow! wow! WOW!
Abandoned in the outback, a teenage girl and her younger brother learn about sex, death, and nature from an aborigine boy. This 1971 film was Nicolas Roeg's first solo effort, and it's still one of his most satisfying achievements. The themes are large and abstract enough to support Roeg's large, abstract style; there's no sense of disappointment, as there often is in Roeg's films, when the stylistic baroque collapses into stylistic banality. With Jenny Agutter and David Gulpilil. 95 min.
Film is something that everyone can have a pretty good stab at analysing. The images of a film may tell one person one thing and another person something else and that is the beauty of film. However, there are some film makers that seem to aim to have their films give one or a number of distinct messages. Nicolas Roeg seems to be one of those directors.
With straight parallels in editing comparing the lives of Aborigines to the lives of the white collar Australian aren't that different. And that's about all that I got from it.
I don't dare review this film fully until I watch it a few more times. Walkabout is a baffling, perplexing, bewildering, pretty much any synonym for confusing you can think of, film but also an undeniably beautiful film.
Like most of Roeg's movies, there is a ton to unpack. I have to admit, I hardly understand most of his movies after my initial viewing. I feel that many critical essays can be written about this work in particular and the more I ruminate about it's ideas and imagery, there are plenty of thoughts I'd love to discuss with others. The mystery of communication especially is something I think this film explores most effectively. It's also hypnotic, surreal and moving. One thing I can say of the 4 movies I've seen of his, they all demand second viewings which is the highest compliment I can give him.
My thoughts on this generally align quite well with the other Nicolas Roeg film I have seen, Don’t Look Now, only I enjoyed this considerably less. Both have an intriguing premise that sometimes works brilliantly/kinda okay I guess, but they also both meander a whole lot, and have quite a bit of unnecessary material. The cinematography ranges from stunning to really quite bad. Though in this there’s the added bonus of some truly atrocious acting. And at least in Don’t Look Now the little kid died right at the start so we didn’t have to put up with their whining for the entire fucking film... (too dark?)
Though thankfully, the comically long Donald Sutherland sex scene in DLN is replaced…
Roeg's solo-directorial debut and the start of his incredible flawless streak of 1970s films. On the surface, this is a film about two English children (Jenny Agutter and Roeg's son Luc) trapped deep in the desert when their father kills himself and the young aborigine (David Gulpilil) who helps them survive. Roeg has a superficial endorsement of nature over civilization at the surface of the film, but there are hints of a Herzogian distrust of nature bubbling beneath the surface. Like all of Roeg's best films, there's an even deeper logic to the film that isn't centered on the characters or the narrative but more on the flow of his incredible imagery. The experiences of the three young characters, framed by a pair of suicides, transform them in ways that make sense, but not exactly on a level you can explain in words.
Awesome tale about two kids meeting an Aborigine in the Australian Outback. At times it feels like it lumbers, but Roeg knows how to visually capture our attention.
Recently, I've become aware that certain films are able to transcend the medium by being completely self-assured in their atmospheres…